Bring Me Home
by RedtheBrunette
Summary: CHAPTER 6 [We’ve got people all over it,Woody, but you’re closest to her!”]COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone but Nedina, Brian, Sadie, Kevin, Jack, Evelyn, Georgia, Doctor Collins, Phillip Johnson, Chief Victor Monroe, Vega and anyone else you don't recognize.

Bring Me Home

Chapter 1

Jordan tenderly brushed the dark hair from the unconscious Detective's face, almost wishing he was awake so she could look again into those beautiful blue eyes. Almost.

"Hey Woody," she murmured softly, eyes filling with tears as she sat in a chair by his bed and gently picked up his hand, being careful not to disturb the many tubes and machines surrounding his body. Heaving a deep breath, she murmured, "I guess you get your wish, love-I'm getting out of your life, although not by choice.

"See, long before you came to Boston, there was a special case," she explained, toying gently with his lean, tanned fingers, "This guy was unburying women's coffins, discarding their bodies and then burying different women in said coffins. Alive. I was actually working with the FBI on that case, and it was pretty high profile, ya know? Lots of press and coverage since it had happened to so many girls.

"Well, he figured out I was the ME on the case after getting my badge-I'd dropped in a…scuffle of sorts- and tried to make me the next victim. I-He-He buried me a-alive." A few tears fell, but she continued undeterred, "We never caught him, but…they think he's back-or it could be a copycat, but I doubt it.

"Th-The woman that they found matches Digger's-that's what we called him- MO. The-the only difference was that there was a note in the coffin with her." She stopped a moment, her breath having caught on a sob, "H-He wr-wrote th-that h-he's c-coming after m-me."

Jordan stopped speaking, her eyes closing as she attempted to regain control. Moments later, she reopened them, having accomplished it.

"I love you, Woody. I really do." She whispered, "And I want to be here, to help you through all the physical therapy you're going to have to do, but I can't. I'm being put into a safe-house with a couple of FBI agents until they find Digger."

There was a knock at the door and Garret stuck his head through, saying softly, "Jordan, it's time for you to go."

Jordan nodded, tears again in her eyes as she stood. Leaning over the bed, she whispered softly into Woody's ear, "I love you, Woodrow Wilson Hoyt-always."

Jordan straightened, giving one last look to the man she loved. Silently, she let her eyes travel over and memorize his features.

Garrett stepped further into the room, placing a gentle arm around Jordan's waist. Jordan leaned gratefully against Garrett's warm strength, ignoring the tears spilling down her face as he led her out of the room-and out of Woody's life.  
**XoXoXoXo**

Garrett and Nigel sat silently in the surgical waiting room, awaiting the okay to go into Woody's room. Jordan had been gone for over four hours and the Morgue employees had taken turns coming into the hospital to wait with Garrett for Woody to awaken.

Half an hour ago, Woody had finally woken up. The doctor needed to look him over, but until then they had to wait to visit.

A tall, slim, willowy doctor stepped out into the waiting room, clipboard in hand, "Drs. Macy and Townsend?"

Nigel and Garrett were immediately on their feet, Garrett asking, "How is he?"

"Well," the doctor said, "the second surgery went well. It will take a few days for the swelling to go down and until then we won't know how much mobility in his legs he'll regain."

"But?" Garrett asked expectantly, both men hearing the silent but in the woman's voice.

The doctor sighed before levelly meeting the former-CME's eyes, "For some reason, since Detective Hoyt woke up, he can't remember anything."

"What?" Nigel asked incredulously, "How did that happen? He didn't even have a head injury!"

"I know," the doctor nodded, "which is why it's so unusual. However, sometimes the shock of such accidents can cause victims to subconsciously block out the part of their brain that holds all of their memories."

"But Woody was fine earlier!" Garrett pointed out.

The doctor frowned in puzzlement and thought, "Did anything happen between the two surgeries that could have caused a lot of stress? Maybe something extremely emotional?"

The two men shared a significant look and then Garrett explained, "Woody and Jordan-the woman from earlier who got special clearance for his room- met about four years ago and have been dancing around a relationship from day 1. Jordan…has issues, so she refused to get involved. Just before the first surgery, she finally told him he loved her but afterwards he told her he didn't believe her and for her to get out of his life."

The doctor sighed sympathetically, asking, "Is she coming back?"

Garret shook his head slightly, "Not anytime soon. She's gone away for…family problems."

The doctor sighed again and shrugged her shoulders, "There's nothing we can do, really. His memory should come back in time, but you'll have to answer questions-sometimes repeatedly-until then."

The two nodded and the doctor said, "Alright, you can go in now."

The two men thanked the doctor and then, with a deep, solidifying breath, walked into the room of their confused friend.  
**XoXoXoXo**

Jordan sighed, tapping her fingers absentmindedly against her jean-clad thigh. She was sitting in a black pick-up truck between two FBI agents. Attached to the back of the truck was a large U-Haul filled with brand new furniture.

The FBI had flown Jordan, and about half a dozen agents, out of Boston to Minnesota in a private plane. From there, they had all boarded a public plane to Toronto, Ontario, Canada. The truck and U-Haul had been there waiting for them.

Jordan and the two agents who'd been assigned to stay with her (one of which was Special Agent Drew Haley) were going undercover. The three (the other agent a young Spanish woman with jet-black hair and blue eyes named Nedina Floras) were posing as best friends who'd grown up together and moved in together afterwards.

Jordan's name had been changed to Jodie Emily Martin, Drew's to Daniel Harrison and Nedina's to Helena Rodriguez. Neither Drew nor Nedina had had to alter their appearances since Digger wasn't obsessed with them, but Jordan had.

Her hair had been cut to just above her shoulders-about an inch above- and dyed a lighter brown streaked through with golden yellow. She'd also been forced into wearing green-coloured contacts. However, she'd refused to drop having a job and was now a "special consultant ME" for the Cambridge City Morgue(A/N I don't know if that's what the morgue is called there, but for the purpose of this story it is!)

Almost two hours after the second plane landed, the 2 agents and 1 ME pulled up to their new home. It was a small, two-story, old Victorian-style house. There were3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, an eat-in kitchen, living room, dining room and a finished basement.

After 4 hours of unpacking, rearranging furniture and setting up discreet surveillance and other such security measures, the trio was exhausted. Nedina switched on the T.V, collapsing on the black leather couch while Drew padded about in the kitchen. Jordan was sitting on the seat of the bay window in the living room.

On long leg was dangling off the edge, the other was curled up to her chest, one arm wrapped loosely around said knee. The other arm was toying with the edges of a pillow that rested on her dangling leg. Her forehead was pressed against the cool glass of the window and "green" eyes stared blankly out into the night.

Behind her, she heard Drew enter the room and talk to Nedina. She didn't really hear what they were saying, her thoughts thousands of miles away on the Homicide Detective in Boston General.

"Hey Jordan-er, Jodie," Drew said, tapping her shoulder lightly to extricate her from her thoughts, "You probably shouldn't sit by the window.

Jordan gave the agent a wan smile, pulling herself elegantly but silently from the seat. Drew reached behind her, pulling shut the heavy green drapes as Jordan moved to the overly stuffed matching leather armchair, staring blankly at the flashing T.V screen.

Drew sighed, settling down beside Nedina, but throwing Jordan a look from the corner of his eyes. It had been almost 4 years since Drew had last seen the once spunky ME and he couldn't believe the difference.

Jordan was pale, the circles under her eyes dark. Her eyes, despite the contacts, were dull and blank with a touch of deep sadness.

The three remained in the living room, silently watching-or atleast pretending to watch, in Jordan's case- the TV. At around 10 PM, Jordan stood.

"I'm going to head to bed," she smiled, 'though it didn't reach her eyes, "I do have work in the morning!"

After a round of goodnights from the others, Jordan padded up the stairs to her new room. She changed into a pair of silk pants and a black tank top before slipping under the covers of her new blue sheets, only to stare silently at the ceiling.

Slowly, the tears began to leak from her now-contact-free eyes as the gentle, loving face of Woody Hoyt swam in her mind. Curling into a ball, she hugged a pillow to her chest, burying her face into the top of it.

She wanted her Farm Boy.  
**XoXoXoXo**

"So my name is _Woodrow_?" Woody asked, wrinkling his nose at the unusual name.

Garrett laughed at the younger man's expression, "Yes, Woodrow Wilson Hoyt."

Woody grimaced comically before asking, "What do I do? Like, what's my profession?"

"You're a cop, dear Woodrow," Nigel answered, "a Homicide Detective."

Woody nodded with a thoughtful expression, "Yea, that seems kind of right…how do I know you two?"

"I'm Garrett Macy, I sued to be the Chief Medical Examiner for the morgue," Garrett answered, a flash of pain shooting through his eyes at the thought of his former profession-and his former life.

"And I'm Nigel Townsend, a Medical Examiner at the Morgue and _the_ computer whiz," Nigel added with a jokingly pompous grin.

Woody grinned back, but then fell silent for a few moments, seemingly gathering his thoughts. The former CME and ME remained silent, allowing Woody to do so easily.

"What-What about my family?" he asked finally, nervously, "I-I mean, do I-do I have any?"

Garrett took a deep breath before explaining softly, "Your mother passed away from cancer when you were really young and your father was shot during duty when you were in high school. You have a younger brother, Cal, but we haven't been able to track him down yet."

"But we're working on," Nigel assured him.

Woody nodded his acceptance before asking, "Where did I grow up? Boston?"

"Nope. You grew up in Kewaunee, Wisconsin."

Woody spent the next couple of hours asking questions about his past and re-meeting people from the Morgue and the PD. He kept up a brave, smiling face, but inside he was becoming increasingly frustrated with himself-he'd had to bask his own name a half dozen times!

Finally, visiting hours were over. He said goodbye to Garrett-who'd been with him all day- as well as another cop, Eddie Winslow, and then the nurse shut out the light for him.

Tucked under the covers, he closed his eyes, mentally and physically exhausted. Sleep, however, eluded him.

Woody sighed, reopening his eyes to stare silently up at the dark ceiling. His mind retraced the day's steps, going over his story again-orphaned at a young age with his younger brother Cal to be raised by an aunt and uncle, working really hard to become a police officer, transferring over to Boston, getting shot and almost killed.

Woody sighed again, thinking over what the doctor had said about his bullet wound. Because the bullet had come so close to his spine, the doctor's said there would be a chance he might never walk again. Scary thought.

However, atleast he was alive, unlike the other cops. Woody felt grateful that he had lived and that that sniper had been taken down.

But through the entire day, Woody had felt like there was something missing. He hadn't told the others, because it could very well just be a side effect of the amnesia…but he felt like there was someone who wasn't there that should have been.

With a soft sigh, his eyes finally closed as he drifted into sleep. However, it wasn't a peaceful one.

All night long, Woody was haunted by the image of a tall, beautiful brunette with pleading, whiskey coloured eyes begging him, "Please Woody, don't leave me! I need you! I love you, Woody!"  
**XoXoXoXo **

A/N Well? What do ya think? Feed back is much appreciated!

Red


	2. Chapter 2

****

Bring Me Home

Chapter 1

The next day, Jordan, dressed in form-fitting blue jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt and tailed by a plain-clothed agent, went to her first day at work. After a quick meeting with her new boss-a witch of a woman by the name of Elena Anders who could give Renee Walcott a run for her money- Jordan was ushered into her first autopsy.

"Hi," greeted the other ME, already dressed in scrubs and making the Y-incision, "You must be the new ME.

The man was a little over 6" tall with a muscular build and tan complexion. He had dark, shoulder-length black hair pulled back in a low ponytail and clear, smiling, sea-blue eyes.

Jordan gave the man a half-smile, saying, "Yup, I'm Jodie Martin."

"Welcome to the Cambridge Morgue," he smiled toothily back, "I'm Brian Peters."

"Pleasure," Jordan smiled, before her eyes fell to the body and she became all business, asking, "So, what have we got?"

The rest of her day was spent meeting her many co-workers. Only two others besides Brian really seemed to stand out to her.

The first was an elder man who reminded her of Garrett named Christopher Schwartz. He was 5"11, with a slim, lean build. He had salt and pepper hair with grey eyes, a bushy mustache and a ready smile.

The other was a younger woman named Sadie Nikols. She was petite, at 5"2, with curly, waist-length auburn red hair and sparkling brown eyes. Se was slim and willowy.

"Hey Jodie, we're going for drinks at the bar, you want to come?" Brian asked, peeking his head around the door of her new office that she shared with Sadie.

Jordan smiled up at him, debating a moment before deciding, what the heck! "Sure," she smiled, "Just let me call my room mates and let them know so they don't worry."

Brian grinned and Jordan flipped open her new cell, dialing her new 'home' phone number. Drew picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dr-aniel." Jordan greeted, catching herself just in time.

"Hey Jordan, what's up?"

"I'm going to be late tonight. I'm going out for drinks with a couple of my new co-workers, 'kay?"

"Alright, I'll call your tail and let him know."

"Thanks."

"No problem. Have fun, huh?"

"I'll try. See you soon!"

"Bye."

Jordan flipped the phone closed and grinned wildly at Brian and Sadie, "Let's go have some fun!"  
**XoXoXoXo**

Woody groaned as he felt the sunlight across his face. His eyes opened groggily and he scowled irritably at the far wall.

He'd slept on and off all night long, disturbed by images of the gorgeous brunette. She seemed so familiar to him, like she was extremely close to him. He was undeniably attracted to her, and, he somehow knew, also undeniably in love with her.

But then, why hadn't she visited him? Garrett had told him yesterday that he'd met everyone from Boston-so who was she?

Woody growled in frustration but was interrupted by the arrival of one of the nurses carrying his breakfast. He thanked her politely and waited until she left before making horrible faces at the nasty looking hospital food, which consisted of oatmeal and soggy toast.

His salvation came in the form of the tall, former CME not more than five minutes later. In the older man's hands was a Tim Horten's bag which contained a toasted bagel with butter and a cup of coffee was in his other hand.

"Oh, you are a GOD," Woody said, enthusiastically accepting the bagel and coffee, "A king! You are my savior! I'll name a child after you-build a statue in your likeness-"

"Just shut up and eat the damn bagel," Garrett laughingly interrupted,

Woody complied immediately, scarfing down the bagel and washing it down with the coffee. Garrett meanwhile got rid of the hospital breakfast by dumping the oatmeal out the window into some bushes and tearing up the toast and spreading it on the sill to feed some birds.

Woody, grinning at the older man's actions, joked, "You'd make a great spy, Doc."

Garrett raised a skeptical eyebrow, nevertheless grinning back at the man, just as Woody's doctor entered the room. While her head was still bent, Woody hurriedly shoved the Timmy's wrappings and cup into the garbage, sharing a look of relief with Garret. However, when her head raised, her knowing smile let them know they'd got away with nothing.

"Good morning gentlemen," she greeted, straight-faced, 'though her eyes danced with silent amusement.

"Mornin' Doctor Collins," Garrett greeted innocently while Woody offered up a sheepish grin for the young woman.

Doctor Collins returned the smile with a slight chuckle before turning to Woody, becoming serious and asking, "Any pain? Discomfort?"

Woody shook his head in the negative, "Nah, I'm pretty numb, Doc."

The doctor nodded, noting it on her clipboard before taking out a small, somewhat sharp instrument. Woody's eyebrows immediately shot up to meet his hairline as she approached his bedside.

Collins laughed merrily a the younger man's frightened expression before saying, "I'm going to press this against your legs at intervals from the foot up. Tell me if you fell anything, okay?"

Woody nodded uncertainly, eyeing the instrument distastefully. And, when Collins' instrument was about a centimeter above his foot, he shut his eyes. When he felt nothing, he opened his eyes to see the instrument pressed to his foot-but he didn't feel anything.

Woody felt nothing until Collins reached about mid-thigh. Instinctively, his hand had swatted at the instrument, his mouth forming the "ow" automatically. Less than a heartbeat later, his eyes widened with the realization of what had just happened.

"I felt that!" he yelled with a mixture of incredulity and excitement, "I _felt_ it!"

Doctor Collins grinned, moving the instrument further up his leg to discover he had feeling all the way up from there. From his position at the window and out of the way, Garret grinned joyously along with the goofily grinning detective.

Doctor Collins grinned encouragingly, saying, "This is a good sign-feeling in almost a quarter of your leg when the swelling hasn't even fully gone down yet."

"Thanks Doc," Woody grinned broadly.

Doctor Collins smiled softly at the gentle-faced young man, "Don't thank me just yet, Detective. In the next couple of days, as more feelings return to your legs, you'll be in a heck of a lot of pain. Then, of course, you'll curse me until you're blue in the face-especially during physical therapy."

Woody smiled, "But it will all be worth it."  
**XoXoXoXo**

Brain and Jordan tumbled into Sadie's small, blue Honda. The three ME's belted themselves in and Sadie cranked up the radio. Immediately, the small car was filled with the pumping sounds of country singer Gretchen Wilson.

Instantly, both women joined in the "Hell yeah!"'s. And, when Brian, pitching his voice higher, joined them, all three burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

Roughly twenty minutes later the blue car pulled into the parking lot of a small bar named "The Pint". It was a redbrick building with cherry wood double doors. It was a simple room with a bar, scattered tables, a few pool tables and small area for dancing as well as a stage-complete with karaoke equipment.

The three took seats at a small table with Sadie's awaiting husband, Jack, and her brother, Kevin. Jack was a 6" plus man with pale blonde hair and paler blue eyes. Kevin was a stocky 5"8 man with short red and peppermint green eyes. Both men were pediatricians in a shared practice.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Kevin greeted suavely, his eyes running appreciatively over her body.

Jordan gave him a soft smile, but her sad eyes let him know she wasn't interested. Kevin, however, was undeterred, thanks to the 5 beers he'd already consumed, 'though he wasn't overly forward or overly suggestive.

"So, Jodie," Brian began with a smile once they'd all ordered their drinks and Kevin had finally got the message when Jordan had practically snarled at him when he'd put his arm around her shoulders for the 3rd time.

"Yes Brian?" Jordan returned suspiciously, raising her eyebrows at the man as she took of her newly arrived Guinness, much happier without Kevin's unwanted attention.

Brian grinned at her suspicion, asking, "What brings you all the way to good ol' Canada from your U.S of A?"

"Well, first of all, you're damn right America's _mine_," Jordan said teasingly, "And I moved here because…well, because we needed a change."

"WE?" Kevin asked, voice just a _little _slurred, "Who's we?"

"My best friends-and housemates- Daniel Harrison and Helena Rodriguez. We all grew up together in an orphanage back in America." Jordan lied smoothly.

The conversation moved on to other topics. Jordan learned that Jack and Sadie had been married 6 years, since they'd finished Med. School and had a two-year-old daughter named Evelyn Grace Nikols. Brian was engaged to an up and coming actress named Georgia Feyes. And Kevin was a single guy who threw himself at any girl in sight (which included Jordan, 3 different waitresses and about 6 random girls on the dance floor.

It was about 11:30 when Sadie finally dropped Jordan off at her new place. After a cup of coffee and a round of goodnights to her two housemates, Jordan headed up to bed. After a quick shower, she changed into her black pajamas.

She knew, however, that she wouldn't sleep yet. She leaned against the small window, pushing aside the lace curtains to stare out at the moon. Immediately, her wayward thoughts turned to Woody.

She sighed, flipping on the radio in desperate attempt to divert her thoughts from the man she loved but who didn't love her back. Bad idea.

"I'm so tired…Tired of waiting for y-ou."

The tears welled up and spilled over Jordan's eyes- the Kinks were Woody's favourite band. Unable to control her tears anymore, Jordan sank onto the bed, clutching a pillow to her chest as, for the second night in a row, she cried for her Farm Boy.  
**XoXoXoXo**

Woody woke with a moan, feeling excruciating pain from the waist down. He'd been fine most of the morning, feeling only slight twinges of pain that were all quickly squashed by the morphine (he wondered briefly about the uneasiness he felt each time just before he hit the button, but he ignored it in favor of not feeling any pain.). However, by noon, after hours of visitors he didn't always remember, the nurses had kicked everyone out for Woody to have a nap-that had once again been plagued by dreams of the pleading brunette.

Reaching out, his eyes screwed shut with pain, Woody's hand found the little morphine button. Hitting it a few times, he waited, finger poised to hit again should the pain remain. 'Fortunately, however, the pain passed in only a few moments.

Relaxing back against the pillows, Woody's blue eyes drifted open. Looking down at his legs, a large grin flitted across his face despite the slight lingering of pain. The pain was actually quite a good sign- it meant that the feeling was returning to his legs and he'd be able to fully function again, but only after physiotherapy.

Sighing, he settled back further, getting more comfortable. Sighing again, he let his eyes rove over the mostly blank room. The only colour in the room came from the many different bunches of flowers from his many friends and co-workers.

A sudden knock at the door brought his head up. There was a tall, quite muscular man in the doorway. He had longish brown hair and brown eyes and a washed out pallor. He could almost be mistaken for a bear, Woody thought with an internal smile.

"H-Hi," the man said hesitantly, eyeing the many tubes and wires the young detective was hooked up to.

"Hi," Woody greeted with a smile, head cocked quizzically at the man, trying in vain to recall who this man was.

"I-I'm Cal," he stuttered slightly, nervously licking his lips as he uncertainly met his older brother's eyes, "Calvin Coolidge (?) Hoyt-y-you're little brother."

Woody smiled warmly at his sibling, saying, "Hi, Cal."

Cal gave him a shaky grin, walking into the room. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Cal sat in one of the chairs by Woody's bed, again eyeing the tubes and wires connecting the machines to his older brother.

"Hell, Wood," Cal croaked, his eyes slightly teary, "You look like shit."

Woody grinned lightly, attempting to ease the younger man's discomfort as he said jokingly, "Thanks Cal."

Cal gave a half-hearted grin, running a hand roughly through his hair as he said, "Th-The dude who called me-Macy or something- he said-uh- that you-uh- lost your-um- memory."

"Yeah," Woody confirmed, "I-uh- I can't remember anything of my past."

Cal sighed, running a hand over his eyes as he said, "I should probably tell you everything about our childhoods then, huh?"

"Might be nice," Woody nodded, wondering why his brother seemed so reluctant to talk about it.

Moments later, he no longer had to wonder. Slowly, his eyes downcast form his brother's-and secret hero, though he'd never admit it- Cal told Woody about their pasts- how Woody had pretty much raised him since their mother's death and how Cal had pretty much screwed him over since.

"So, if you'd like me to go, I'd understand," Cal said hoarsely, wiping roughly at the tears that had begun while he talked, "B-But I just wanted you to know, that I'm sorry a-and that I love you."

Cal stood to go, but Woody, his own voice hoarse, called out, "Cal, wait!"

Cal turned uncertainly to his brother. Without hesitation, Woody opened his arms to his younger brother. With a little sob, Cal collapsed into his brother's arms, being immediately enveloped by strong, loving arms.

"Sh, Cal, it's alright," Woody soothed, slightly tightening his hold on the shaking Cal, despite the pain his brother's weight caused his stitched wound, "I love you Cal, it's alright."

The two remained that way for some time, clutching each other close. When Cal finally pulled away, eyes red from crying and still sniffling slightly, he silently regarded his brother, who was wiping at his own tears and offering up a grin.

Neither Hoyt said anything, too emotional to put three words together let alone a sentence. The only thing either man could think to do was clutch tightly to each other's hands, not willing to let got of the other.  
**XoXoXoXo**

"Jordan?" Drew questioned softly, voice laced with concern ad he opened her door marginally, having heard her sobbing as he past.

Jordan looked up at him from her position curled against the headboard, wiping away her tears. However, within moments, more had come to take their place.

"Hey," Drew said softly, walking to the bed and sitting beside her, gathering the crying woman into his arms, "It's alright."

Jordan shook her head, shoulders shaking, as she sobbed, "No, no it isn't H-He d-doesn't wa-want me a-anymore!"

Drew hugged her tighter, asking gently, "Who doesn't want you anymore Jordan?"

"W-W-W-Woody!" Jordan sobbed into his chest, her entire body wracked with the sobs.

Drew ran comforting hands up and down Jordan's back, murmuring soothing words into her now-curly hair. Despite the fact that he didn't have a clue what Jordan was crying about- or who Woody was- Drew comforted her, knowing that that was all she needed at the moment.

And, slowly, Jordan let the story tumble out. She told him about how Woody had chased her for almost four years, and how she'd continued to run, too afraid of getting hurt to stop and face her feelings. She told Drew of the many times she'd gotten Woody neck-deep into trouble but how he'd never given up on her. Of the many times when Woody had believed her when others hadn't, and of the many times Woody had saved her, almost always putting his own life in danger to do so.

And, finally, Jordan told him of Woody being shot by some young punk sniper and almost losing the ability to ever use his legs again. How she'd finally admitted to him that she _did_ love him when she realized that it was her last chance that she didn't want to ever live with out him. And then about how he'd angrily rejected her when he'd awoken from the first surgery. And how it was breaking her heart all over again that she wouldn't be there to let him know she really did love him.

"Sh, hush now Jordan, it's alright." Drew soothed the heartbroken woman, rocking her gently as he pushed away his own tears that he could feel welling for her.

It truly amazed him to see the difference in Jordan now and the Jordan he'd first met. When he'd first met Jordan over 4 years ago, she was a spunky, hard-hitting young woman with a backbone of steel and a n intense passion for everything she did, who didn't take no for an answer and who had walls built higher than Heaven around her heart. And now she was a broken version of her former self. She was no longer the spunky young woman-she was now a sad young woman with whiskey eyes filled with heartbreaking sadness and slumped shoulders. She had barely half the passion she'd had before.

Slowly, the tears stopped as her breathing evened out. Drew sighed, kissing the crown of the woman's head as he eased her onto the bed. Carefully he tucked her in, bestowing another brotherly kiss on Jordan's forehead.

As he was shutting the door, he heard her murmur a word in her sleep. It was filled with such pain that it nearly broke Drew's heart.

"Woody."  
**XoXoXoXo**

Oh my God! I LOVE you guys! You are SO incredibly nice to me! Tear

Thanks to:

HillbillyofDoom:I'm really sorry about the A/N-don't know why I did that…I don't normally! So sorry and thanks!

RedTonic: I've never really been sure of my decripts. But if you like them…lolz

Orlando-crazy

Onthnis

Jinubean: Again, sorry about the A/N! I'll try my best to keep it until the end next time!

Beccles

Ok, well, I've got to go-Homework to get to, my loves!- but I'll update sometime next week if I can. I'm not making any promises 'cause I just started working, plus we're moving in a couple of weeks so we're packing AND I've got about 3 Eng. Projects, a Hist. Project as well as a Civics exam coming up in the next couple of weeks so-while I totally LOVE all this- it might take a lil while-SORRY!

'My love,

Red.


	3. Chapter 3

****

Bring Me Home

Chapter 3

Slowly, the days passed, and, before she knew it, Jordan had been "Jodie" for almost a month and she suddenly found herself preparing for Brian's marriage to Georgia. Through the days-and occasional late nights- she and Brian had grown close, and, in turn, so had Drew, Nedina and Georgia.

She was dressed in a spaghetti-strap dress with a scoop neck that reached to her ankles with slits up either side to mid-thigh. The dress was decorated with a collage of pink, yellow and white flowers and she was wearing a pair of white, 2 ½ inch sandals decorated with pink flowers. She'd left her hair loose but held back on with side with small clips.

She sat between Nedina and Drew during the wedding, the tears of joy ruining the eyeliner and mascara she'd carefully applied earlier. And, when the slight twinge of envy came, she forcefully shoved it down, wanting instead to be happy for her new friends.

But she couldn't help the image of herself and Woody being the ones to say, "I do" from forming. For a moment, she relished the image, wishing desperately that it were real. But she quickly shook herself out of it, being happy instead for the friend she'd come to love as a brother.

The ceremony was a beautiful affair and the reception afterwards was a blast. Many men danced with Jordan, all attracted to the sad, small woman who looked like she needed someone to protect her but ended up dazzling them with her quick wit and infectious laugh.

"C'mon Jodie," Brian grinned, "Dance with me!'

"Do I have to?" Jordan whined, her eyes smiling, "I just sat down!"

"Yes, but it's _my_ wedding so you have to do what _I_ say!" Brian returned, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Jordan blew a raspberry at the man, but accepted his hand. Laughing and teasing, Brian led her out onto the middle of the floor. Her arms went up to his shoulders and his rested comfortably, but brotherly, on her hips.

Their easy banter fell into silence, and despite herself, Jordan's mind flashed to Woody. Brian noticed the faraway look in her eyes and sighed softly in concern for her.

"You miss him?" he asked softly, catching her attention and pulling her mind back to him.

Jordan's eyes snapped up to his, and her lips parted slightly in surprise. Catching herself, she looked away, asking, "What are you talking about?"

Brian chuckled softly, "I haven't a clue. But you always seem to get this look in your eyes whenever you're left to your own devices- like your mind is hundreds of miles away."

"Try _thousands_," she moaned, dropping her head against Brian's shoulder in defeat.

"Thousands, eh?"

"Yeah," she sighed, pulling her head back to stare vacantly over Brian's shoulder, "We met about four years ago. He thought I was the best thing since processed cheese and I thought he was a naïve country bumpkin. Because of lots of crappy stuff that happened to me in my past, I'm not always that trusting of people, but, somehow, he managed to worm his way into my heart."

"But…?" Brian pressured gently, eyes filled with deep concern for his surrogate sister.

Jordan sighed, "But all my issues got in the way. He always let me know he was completely in love with me, but by the time I admitted that I love him too, it was too late."

"Oh Jodie, I'm sorry." Brian murmured sympathetically, dropping a light, brotherly kiss on Jordan's forehead.

Jordan shrugged her shoulders, gently smiling at her 'brother', "Don't worry about it, Bri, I'll be alright.

Brian squeezed her in a hug in response, replying, "You know, even if you don't have him, you know I love you, right?"

Jordan nodded, burying her head in Brian's chest as she fiercely returned the hug, trying to hide her tears. Brian reminded her so much of Nigel, her other 'brother', which is why, she thought, he'd been able to penetrate her already weak defenses. And which is why it pained her so much to deceive him like this, not to tell him who she really was, what had rally happened to her- but she couldn't, not unless she wanted Digger to find her.

And that was a whole other thing-Digger. Almost every night, despite the long hours spent at work, running, at the gym and the exhausting, private crying she did every day Jordan still did not sleep well at night. She could sleep only a few hours before the nightmares would take over.

Every night, Jordan relived her first experience with Digger. She was drugged and shoved into the coffin with that damned walkie-talkie all over again. Night after night she told him she wasn't going to beg just to give him his sick, sadistic pleasure, and, every night, just like that night, she did. She begged over and over again for him to let her out-to let her _live_!

But, unlike the real event, Garrett and Drew didn't get her out. Instead, she stayed in that small box, her air slowly running out. She screamed and begged desperately, clawing at the lid of the coffin. But no one ever came to get her-no one was ever there to save her.

And every night she woke alone in her bed, sweating like she'd run miles and pale as a ghost. She'd tremble so violently it was impossible for her to hold anything, and she'd cry for hours, her entire body wracked with the sobs.

But, right now, Brian's warm, brotherly arms anchored her to the present. Yes, she didn't have Woody anymore, and, yes, Digger was after her, but, for right now, she was okay.  
**XoXoXoXo**

Woody groaned in pain but determinedly pushed on. He was in between two railings just above waist height. With one hand on with rail, he determinedly moved his legs another step, wincing at the fiery pain but stubbornly pushing on to walk the 2 feet left of the 4-foot rail. Reaching the end, he dropped tiredly to the ground, not bothering to move his face from the carpet. He'd been making great progress in his physical therapy but still couldn't remember anything from his past.

"That was great Woody!" Cal yelled excitedly, carefully lifting his brother to his feet and easing him into the wheel chair, "You made it the entire rail!"

"Go die, you enthusiastic psycho," Woody muttered, but couldn't help the tired, victorious smile that stretched across his face.

"No can do, big bro," Cal grinned teasingly, "If I went and did that, who would be your personal cheerleader?"

"Hopefully someone with a better mug than yours," Woody grinned back, before turning to his physical therapist, "So, what do you think, Doc?"

Annie Lauraga was a petite Spanish woman with balls of steel. She had a perfectly straight figure from doing ballet on the side despite how old she was getting. In her fifties, Annie's hair was a pure white, but her eyes were still a clear, brown-gold and sparkling with youth. Over the past month, she'd pushed Woody harder than anyone else dared to, using the tactic "Piss him off enough to want to walk just to get away from me."

"I think you're doing really good, Hoyt," Annie smiled, a rare occurrence, "If you keep up the two sessions a day, you'll be on a walker in about 4 days and a cane in about a week."

"Thanks Annie, you rock!" Woody grinned with a wave over his shoulder as Cal wheeled him out.

As he wheeled Woody down the corridor, Cal leaned forward, asking in a low, conspiratol voice, "Hey Woody, what do you say I bust you out of here for a few hours and we go and celebrate your success?"

"I dunno, Cal, I don't think I'm supposed to leave the hospital," Woody said, torn between listening to his doctors and having a little fun.

"Oh, come one Woody! Live a little!" Cal wheedled, "C'mon, we'll even call Nigel, Bug and Dr. M-it'll be a blast!"

"They're at work, Cal," Woody reminded his brother blandly, "Dr. M was reinstated last week, remember?"

"So what?" Cal shrugged, pushing his brother to the exit, "We'll have a brothers' night out then!"

"You're incorrigible Cal," Woody grinned, but he didn't protest as his brother wheeled him out of the hospital.  
**XoXoXoXo**

Jordan sat silently on the bay window seat. One leg hung off the seat, the other curled under her with her forehead pressed to the glass, staring blankly out the window.

"You shouldn't sit in front of the window, Jor," Drew said softly as he walked by, backtracking to come and stand beside her, "You're too-"

"Open. I know," Jordan sighed, standing reluctantly before turning to Drew, "When can I go home Drew? When are they going to catch that stupid bastard?"

In the almost month and a half since she'd been taken into custody, 4 more women had been killed. Each coffin had the note, "Watch out, Jordan Cavanaugh, I'm going to get you!" And, in the two weeks since Brian's wedding, Jordan had fallen into a big bout of homesickness-she wanted to go home, to Woody and Garret and Lily and Nigel and all the rest of her morgue family.

"I don't know, babe, I don't know," Drew sighed regretfully, wrapping the smaller woman into a tight hug, "God, but I wish I did. I'm sorry, Jordan, really sorry."

"It's alright, Drew," Jordan said softly, pulling gently out of his arms and giving him a sad smile, "It's not your fault. It's not like you're the one trying to kill me."

"Nah," Drew said teasingly, "You're way too pretty to kill."

Jordan smiled, but, like it had been for the last two weeks, the smile didn't reach her eyes. Drew sighed, kissing her forehead with brotherly affection.

"Hey guys!" Nedina called as she stepped through the front door, "I brought pizza and good news!"

Jordan's eyes snapped eagerly towards the entrance hall, and Drew, too, found himself hoping. Both knew that Nedina had gone to a meeting with the chief of the FBI bureau that day.

Jordan moved quickly into the hall, taking the pizza box from Nedina's hands and moving to the kitchen, demanding over her shoulder, "Hurry up!"

"Has she been like this all day?" Nedina asked curiously as Drew helped her out of her coat before giving her a light kiss of greeting-the two had been together about a year and had been a constant source of amusement for Jordan's childish teasing.

"Yup," Drew answered, slipping an arm around Nedina's waist, as they followed Jordan's path a t slower pace, "She's been waiting for you to come back all day."

"Then we'd better hurry, hadn't we?" Nedina laughed, tugging him to go faster, "Our Lady awaits."  
**XoXoXoXo**

Cal took Woody to an Irish bar called "The Clover". It was set up much like the Pogue Mahone had been-'though Woody didn't know this, just that it felt familiar.

"So, Cal, I've got a question for you," Woody began over their second beers twenty minutes after their 'escape'-they were taking it slow and were eating with their beers since Woody wasn't supposed to drink at all and Cal would have to drive him back to the hospital and then himself home.

"Shoot-er, I mean, go ahead," Cal winced slightly at his slip up, taking a drag of his beer to cover up his discomfort.

"Was I ever married?" he asked with a curious frown, brushing off the remark.

"No," Cal frowned slightly, "You almost became engaged years ago, but her father didn't approve. That's when you moved to Boston."

"Was she a brunette?" Woody asked, watched the beer swirl in the bottom of the bottle as he twirled it.

"No, she was a blonde," Cal eyed his older brother curiously, "Why?"

Woody sighed, placing the bottle back on the table as he stated, "Ever since I woke up, I've been having dreams of this brunette woman who keeps telling me she loves me and she doesn't want me to leave her. I haven't seen her yet in all the people that come and visit, but I know-somehow- that I love her too."

"Jordan," Cal sighed.

"Jordan." Woody tested it out, cocking his head to the side slightly, "It sounds…right."

Cal nodded, grinning ruefully as he said, "It figures that out of everyone, she's the one you remember the most."

"Who is she?"

"Her name is Jordan Cavanaugh and the two of you were completely in love. Cal smiled in remembrance, "Problem was, despite the fact that Jordan's one hell of a woman, she's got a hell of a lot of issues, and she doesn't do the feelings thing well. Cal sighed, "You chased her for 4 years and she strung you along, keeping you just far enough to keep you interested. She wasn't cruel about it-she just didn't know how to deal with love. But…something happened. An old case came back to haunt her or something and so she had to go into protective custody just after your first surgery."

Woody nodded, letting the table fall into silence for only a few moments before he forced a smile, asking, "So, how about them BoSox?"  
**XoXoXoXo**

Jordan had already placed the pizza box, 3 plates, 3 glasses and a 2-liter bottle of Coke on the table by the time Nedina and Drew came into the kitchen. She waved them impatiently into their seats, plopping into her own chair and crossing her legs, jiggling her top leg in impatience.

"Well?" she demanded, "What did they say?"

Nedina smiled slightly at the other woman's impatience and said, "The chief said that they've got a really good lead on Digger. And there hasn't been another woman for a week," she smiled gently at Jordan, "We should all be home in a week."  
**XoXoXoXo**

The nurses gave Woody hell when Cal returned him to the hospital. And Cal-the brave man he was- skeddadled the moment he'd helped Woody onto the bed with only a wave and a hollered, "Good luck!"

So, after about an hour of being fussed over and scolded for his "irresponsible behavior", Woody was finally left to himself. He was duly tucked under the sheets, the doors closed and the lights off.

"Jordan," he whispered softly into the darkness.

Her face flashed before his mind's eye, her face contorted in the pleading expression. Her eyes were filled with love, sadness and pleading, her words echoing in his mind, "Please Woody, don't leave me! I love you!"

Softly, he whispered, "I love you too, Jordan. Come back to me."  
**XoXoXoXo**

A/N Hey guys, sorry for the delay, but like I said, I've got a busy life. I'm gonna try and get a new chapter up before each Sunday episode, but no promises. Thanks to all my reviewers-sorry for not getting all the names, but if I did, the chapter would take longer to update and I feel guilty. So, I'll see ya'll next time.

'My love,

Red


	4. Chapter 4

****

Bring Me Home

Chapter 4

It happened two weeks later when she was exiting the Boston airport. The FBI had caught a man they thought was Digger and it was now safe for Jordan to come home

She'd felt sad to leave her new friends, but she needed to be back with her family-and Woody. Drew, Nedina-only 'cause they'd insisted-and another agent were assigned to escort her back home on the plane and then to the bureau to officially identify Digger-and then she could go home.

She was walking out of the airport building, an agent on one side and two on the other, when gunshots suddenly rang through the air. Nedina fell to the ground with a scream as a bullet tore through her leg and Drew let out a grunt as he was hit in his shooting arm, falling to one knee while the other agent fell with a thud and a bullet between the eyes. Before Jordan could do more than blink, there was a gun in her face.

Jordan let out a choked kind-of sob as she gazed at the steel muzzle. Swallowing thickly, she raised her eyes from the muzzle of the gun to stare into the face that haunted her dreams-Digger.

"Come with me, Cavanaugh, or your friends here gets it," the man sneered, aiming a gun at Drew's head a t point-blank range with his other hand.

"I'm coming," Jordan answered faintly, following obediently as Digger led her from the building, the gun still aimed in her face.

Once they were outside, Digger shoved her into the back of the van, slamming the door shut before going around to the driver's side, pocketing his guns. As soon as he turned the corner of the van, Jordan threw herself at the door, yanking hard at the handle. But it wouldn't open.

Jordan whimpered in fear, crawling onto the seat farthest from the driver's seat as Digger got into the car, throwing her an insane grin. Once again, she was at this man's mercy.  
**XoXoXoXo**

"Jordan!" Woody yelled, snapping straight up in bed.

In one, sudden, onslaught, all the memories of his life were returned to Woody's mind. He yelled out in pain, clutching his now throbbing head and breathing heavily.

"Woody? What's wrong?" Cal demanded, falling through the door, voice thick with sleep as he gazed around wildly.

"Cal?" he groaned, "Aspirin. Now."

"On it!" Cal promised, stumbling back out of the room quickly, rubbing wearily at his eyes.

About two minutes later he returned with a small glass of water and two aspirin for the older man. Woody accepted the offerings gratefully, popping both pills simultaneously and quickly. Then he pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his head against his legs while he tried to push away the pain. Cal sat at the end of the bed, waiting silently for his brother to speak and tell him what was going on.

About 3 minutes later, Woody lifted his head to rest his chin on his knees, saying softly, "I remember, Cal, I remember _everything._"

"Really?" Cal demanded, eyes lighting up as he exclaimed, "That's great Woods!"

Woody nodded, but he didn't look like he was very happy about anything. Cal picked up on this immediately.

"What's wrong, Woody?" he asked with a concerned frown as he watched his brother closely.

Woody sighed, running a hand roughly through his hair before raising his eyes to his brother's and saying solemnly, "Jordan's in trouble."

"What? Woody, no, she's fine," Cal protested with a shake of his head, "She's in protective custody, Woods."

"No," Woody shook his head, flinging the covers off of his legs, "She's in trouble. I always know-I can just _feel _it."

"Woody-!" Cal began with exasperation as his brother's feet touched the ground, only to be interrupted by the ringing of Woody's cell phone.

Woody through his brother a knowing look before flipping open his phone, saying, "Hoyt."

"Woody? It's Macy," the Doc's voice was strained and upset, "We've got a problem."

"It has to do with Jordan, doesn't it?"

"Jordan-but-what?"

"I've had me memory back for about 10 minutes, Dr. M," he paused, "Alright, lay it on me, Doc."

"Jordan's been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped? What the hell do you mean '_Jordan's been kidnapped'_? I thought she was in protective custody with the FBI?"

"Digger attacked them in the terminal. One agent is dead, and the other tow are wounded-one seriously so," he sighed, "We were so sure we had the right guy."

"Digger? Who the fuck is Digger?" Woody snapped, "Garrett, what the hell is going on?"

"It's a long story, Woody. And it starts almost 4 years ago, before you came to Boston. It was a big case…"  
**XoXoXoXo**

Jordan stared blankly at the ceiling, the tear tracks dried on her face. Her face was pretty bruised up, as was the rest of her body. And her clothes were ripped.

Digger had forced a blindfold and gag onto Jordan five minutes into the drive. He'd switched cars an hour later and then forced her into a building another hour after that. He had then made her go into the basement of the building.

He'd taken off the blindfold and gag, the gun still trained on her. And then he'd promptly beat the crap out of her and raped her.

Jordan whimpered again, pulling herself painfully to her feet. Digger had left about half an hour ago, and she was no longer going to sit there and wallow in her self-pity. Instead, she was examining the basement.

It was unfinished, with an old-fashioned furnace, the pipes visible through the beams of the ceiling. There was no furniture in the room, and no windows, the stairs the old-fashioned kind with the holes between steps. The only thing other than Jordan in the room was a pile of rags, pieces of wood and pipe. There was no light.

Jordan moved her aching body to under the stairs, examining the pile. Examining the pile, she shifted quietly through it, pulling out a short, thin rod. Gripping it in her hands, she moved herself to the wall, sliding down it and pulling her knees up to her chest, the weapon still gripped in her hands.

When he came back, she'd be ready for him.  
**XoXoXoXo**

"Okay, what have we got?" Woody demanded as he and Cal entered the conference room of the Morgue, Woody using his newest best friend-a thick, brown cane.

Sitting around the table were Garrett, Nigel, Bug, Lily, Sydney, Eddie Winslow and Santana. There were also two others Woody didn't recognize, both with FBI jackets.

"Woody!" Lily yelled in surprise, "Shouldn't you still be in bed?"

"Lily, I've been in bed for the past two months," Woody reminded her gently, adding, "Besides, some rat bastard has my Jordan. And he can't keep her-I need to bring her back and beg for her forgiveness."

"You're Woody?" asked one of the FBI agent-the younger one with his shoulder in a sling.

"Woody Hoyt," he nodded, eyeing the other man with a mixture of suspicion and uncertainty, "And you are?"

"Agent Drew Haley," Drew answered, saying softly, "You're not going to have to beg a whole lot, you know. Jordan loves you very much."

"Yea? And how do you know?" Woody asked, his suspicion winning.

"I'm one of the agents who was living with Jordan," he paused, running the hand of his good arm over his face as he added softly, "I'm so sorry that he got her-I'm so sorry that I didn't save her."

"Why didn't you?" Cal demanded aggressively, pissed off to hell that something had happened to Jordan, "Don't you carry a damn gun?"

"Yes," Drew nodded, "But we let out guard down-and we shouldn't have, but we all got caught up in Jordan's excitement to be coming home."

"Why didn't you shoot the bastard?" Woody demanded, sinking into a seat beside Nigel, Cal dropping into the seat beside him and scowling darkly at the FBI agents.

"I would have if the gun had just been in my face," Drew answered, "But it wasn't just in my face-he had another one in Jordan's face and I couldn't risk getting her hurt."

"Why didn't you shoot him as he was walking away? Or follow him?" Cal demanded, "What kind of FBI agent are you?"

"Agent Haley is one of our best agents," the other agent interjected smoothly, introducing himself with an outstretched hand and, "Chief Victor Monroe."

"Whatever," Woody shook his head, "I don't really give a crap who wither of you are, what you do or whose fault it was. All I care about is Jordan and getting her out of this sadist's hands.

"So," he demanded, eyes alight with a determined fire, "Who is he? What does he do for living? I want everything on this guy-and I want it now."  
**XoXoXoXo**

Jordan tensed as she heard the floorboards overhead creak, standing as quickly as her battered body would let her. And then she sagged visibly with relief as she heard him walk to what was presumably the front door and leave. The sounds of squealing tires moments later confirmed this suspicion.

Jordan stood still a few moments more before racing up the stairs. Reaching the door, she tried the knob and shrugged when it didn't move. Instead, she pulled a beat-up wallet out of her pocket-it had been in the pile of stuff under the stairs.

The wallet was filled, presumably, with alias for Digger-'presumably' because there was 3 different driver's licenses with his pictures but different names. There were also about a half a dozen credit cards tucked into the holders. And Jordan only needed one.

Taking out a nastily coloured orange one, she slipped it between the doorjamb. After almost a minute of jiggling, she heard the satisfying slick as the door unlocked. Jordan grinned.

Jordan quietly pushed the door open, then paused, There could be others in the building. She took the horrendous orange credit card and slipped it under the clasp at the back of her bra before replacing the wallet in her pocket. And then, gripping the length of pipe, she stepped onto the first floor. Slowly, she crept forward. She was in an abandoned house that could have once been suburbia-worthy but was now rundown and derelict.

There was no one on the first floor, and, judging by the lack of noise, no one upstairs wither. With a surge of relief, Jordan rushed out of the building to find-nothing.

There were no cars, no streets. No people. Just a large forest and piles of wood and concrete that must have once been houses. Jordan let out a cry of despair, only to be interrupted by a beeping noise.

Jordan whirled, pipe in mid-swing before she realized that there was no one there. Cautiously, she crept towards where the intermittent beeping noise was coming from-some overgrown bushes at the side of the door.

Jordan parted the bushes, peering curiously in and giving a crow of delight as she found the source of the beeping. It was from an older model and the beeping noise came from a low battery, but the screen read, "Signal Located."  
**XoXoXoXo**

"Okay, so the agent's body won't be able to help us any-she was never in any contact with Dirt Boy." Woody said, tapping his fingers absentmindedly on the manila folder on the table in front of him before his phone rang. Flipping it open, he impatiently snapped, "Hoyt!"

"Wo-dy? Woody? 's that y-ou?" Jordan's voice crackled over the line, "O'! T-ank G-d!"

"Jordan? Jordan, hunny, where the hell are you?" Woody demanded, sitting straight up in his chair and grabbing a pen and pulling the folder closer, "Tell me where you are Jo, and we'll come get you."

"I d-n't kn-w where I am. –Bandoned buil-ings. Rural. Middle of f-rest. R-ally run down. Unfinished basement….furnace…" there was a pause, the only noise the static across the line before Jordan said softly, "Y-u have to s-ve me W-ody. Please!"

"Yea, I'll save you Jo. I promise," Woody answered, tears gathering in his eyes.

"I l-ve you Woo-y, I l-ve y-u." and then the line was dead.

"Can you get a trace on where that call came form?" Woody demanded of Nigel, already holding out the phone to the lanky Brit.

"I will," Nigel said determinedly, taking the phone and racing from the room.

"Jordan said she was in an abandoned rural building with an unfinished basement and a furnace-so it's older. And in a forest." Woody relayed to the group.

"Bug snatched up the file, saying, "Ill see what the computer can find."

"And I'll call some of my buddies from the street," Cal said, standing and leaving the room with his cell phone already pressed to his ear, "See what I can find out about the little S.O.B"

Which left the others with nothing to do but wait.  
**XoXoXoXo**

Srry for the wait. G2g watch CJ!

Luvz

Red.


	5. Chapter 5

****

Bring Me Home

Chapter 5

Jordan whimpered as the phone clicked off, the screen flashing, "No Battery" at her. She desperately tried twice more to call Woody again but the phone was well and truly dead.

Scrubbing at her face accomplished two things: it helped fight back the tears and gave her hands something to do other than try the number again. Instead, she gently tossed the phone back into the bushes before revolving in a slow circle, thinking over her options.

She could run through the forest and try to find a road. She looked closely, but she couldn't find any distinctive road and it seemed that Digger had thought about her getting out while he was gone. There were tire treads in about 6 different spots. Jordan rejected that option.

She could hide in the forest, maybe climb a tall tree or hide in a ditch. But then if Digger found her, she'd be a sitting duck-and Woody might not be able to find her in the forest. After a short deliberation, she decided to save that one for if she couldn't think of something better.

She could go back to the basement-pretend that she never even got out. But even the thought of going back to that dingy place made Jordan's skin crawl and her stomach turn dangerously. With a shake of her head, she rejected that idea.

She could hide in one of the already collapsed houses among the ruins. But it still held the problem that she'd be a sitting duck when Digger found her-because he _would_ look for her, but only God knew where he'd start. That one, too, was rejected.

"This is ridiculous," Jordan muttered with a sudden fierceness, whiskey eyes ablaze, as she threw her shoulders back and raised her chin defiantly to the non-existent enemy, "I am Jordan Marie Cavanaugh. I have never backed down from a perp before-and this one deserves a good ass kicking, the biggest ever. He. Won't. Beat. Me! I won't be broken-not by him, not by anyone!"

Her honey brown eyes-newly restored to their proper, full-time condition without the contacts- snapped with a fierce anger and rebellion. The gold streaks had faded from her dyed hair some time ago and the dye itself had faded away the morning before. Her back was straight, her chin high as the wind blew a few locks of curly hair.

She turned purposefully, the pipe gripped tight in her hands. She mounted the steps and re-entered the house, refusing to let fear take over. She looked about her decisively before smirking;

She would be ready for him.  
**XoXoXoXo**

"Okay," Nigel began, reentering the room and spreading a map across the table, Bug a few steps behind him. "This," he pointed to the rather large area circled on the map, "Is the closest I could get to Jordan's location with the cell phone trace."

"And these," Bug tapped the areas circled in red, "are places with forests and old, abandoned buildings."

Running a hand through his hair, Woody studied the map, sighing, "That's a big area to cover boys."

"But we do have to find her!" Lily exclaimed, as if Woody had told her they were giving up the search, "We _have_ to!"

"Yeah, Lily, we'll find her," woody threw her a sad smile before saying lightly, "We'll hear her a mile away-it _is_ Jordan after all."

"Yea," Lily wiped away her tears purposefully, sitting up straighter and adding more decisively, "_Yea._"

"That's our Lily," Nigel smiled proudly.

Everyone jumped minutes later when the door suddenly crashed in, the 5 law enforcement officers drawing their guns. The baby faced reporter squeaked in terror at the 5 guns aimed at him, rushing to scrabble backwards from the room, leaving the small notebook where it had skidded when he'd fallen. Nigel, however, wasn't having it.

His best friend had been gone for almost 3 months, all because of some crazy psycho, the same crazy psycho who now had her in his custody. He was pissed- off the wall, ready to _shoot_ something pissed- and this baby-faced reporter, who was only two days out of diapers, had the stupidity to listen in on a conversation with 5 people with guns and an ex Navy-man-and then try to crawl away once he was found out.

Nigel stalked forward, his tall frame fairly _exuding_ anger. The reporter whimpered fearfully and tried to scramble to his feet but Nigel grabbed hold of his shirt front. The Brit hauled the younger man up so his feet were dangling about 3 inches off of the ground and so they were now noes-to-nose.

"Who the hell are you?" Nigel demanded in a growl, making the younger man shrink back from him.

"J-J-Johnson. Ph-Phillip Jo-Johnson." He stuttered slightly, choking slightly thanks to the hold Nigel had on his shirt.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here about the missing ME-" the young reporter stuttered fearfully.

"Wait. How did he know about Jordan?" Eddie demanded, "We're the only ones who know about her disappearance."

"Except Digger." Drew breathed, the entire room turning collectively to Johnson, who Nigel had returned to the floor, still holding his shirt.

"Where is she?" Nigel demanded in a roar, lifting the young man back up off of his feet and slamming him into the wall.

"I-I don't-" Johnson choked out, clawing at Nigel's hand.

Woody walked limpingly forward, cocking the gun right between the reporter's eyes as he hissed, venomously, "If you don't tell me how the _fuck _you know that Jordan's missing, I'll put a bullet between your eyes, law be damned."

"M-My editor told me," Johnson choked out fearfully, "He made me come-he s-said it would make my c-career. Y-You don't tu-turn down a job like this!"

Cal burst suddenly through the door, grinning madly as he said, "Woody, I've got-!" He stopped abruptly as he took in the sight of Nigel holding an unknown man against the wall by his throat and his own brother aiming a gun at said man.

"Don't ask," Woody grunted, before Cal could get a word in, "What's up?"

"One of my buddies on the street says he knows of someone who's been asking around about 'Jordan Cavanaugh' for about a week and a half." Cal said with a smirk, shrugging slightly as the odd position of the three men and obediently keeping his mouth shut about it.

"Good." Woody said with a predatory smirk, dropping his gun from Johnson's head and turning to his brother, "We'll go check this guy out-you guys fight it out between yourselves who gets to go see the editor."

"Wait up, Hoyt. I'm coming with you," Drew said, joining the two brothers in the doorway.

"Woody, are you sure it's such a good idea to do this?" Lily asked delicately, "Your legs…"

"Are working." Woody said shortly, before softening at the hurt look that crossed Lily's face,  
I'm sorry Lily, I shouldn't have snapped. It's just been a long day."

Lily smiled understandingly and nodded, knowing the feeling.

"Sorry, Lils," Woody shrugged, "But I have to find her. I won't let her down again."  
**XoXoXoXo**

Jordan heard the car pulling up an hour later, She'd sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the door, only pacing occasionally to keep her legs from getting too stiff. To keep her mind off of all the horrible possibilities of her predicament, she'd been singing softly under her breath (the Kinks helped remind her of Woody, who's memory gave her the strength she needed), but she'd stopped abruptly when she'd heard the car.

Standing, she moved swiftly to the door. She pressed her side to the wall beside the door, the pipe gripped tightly in her sweaty hands, her mouth dry as she listened to the footsteps crunching through the gravel up to the doorway. She closed her eyes in a brief moment of fear as the doorknob turned, but as it opened, her eyes did too, flashing with a wild defiance.

Digger opened the door and, with a mighty surge of bravery, Jordan brought the pipe swinging down to his head. But Digger, seemingly sensing something amiss, turned at the last moment and the pip caught his should instead, still giving a satisfying "thud".

Digger hollered in pain and Jordan gave a slight shriek of dismay, but bravely swung the pipe again. This time, however, Digger caught the pipe in mid-swing with an angry growl.

Jordan's eyes widened and she screamed slightly as Digger pulled the pipe from her with a violent twist. Jordan jumped forward unexpectedly, startling Digger so much that he stumbled backwards. Jordan took the chance and raced forwards through the door, skipping the stairs altogether in her haste to get to the cherry-red jeep parked in the middle of the lot.

She'd made it only three feet from the porch when the pipe came crashing down between her shoulder blades. She fell to the dirt with a breathless cry, her back throbbing.

"Stupid bitch!" Digger yelled angrily, his face red with anger as he smashed the pipe down again on her prone body.

Jordan screamed loudly as the pipe connected with her left arm, giving a tell-tale crack. And then again as the pipe slammed against her abdomen, knocking the breath from her body.

Digger hauled Jordan quickly to her feet, shoving her forcefully into the house before she could get her breath back. She started fighting back again, however, when they were only a few steps into the house.

Turning abruptly, she swung her good arm and hit him in the side of the head. Digger yelled in pain, lifting the pipe again before Jordan dived at him, tackling him to the ground and pushing the pain in her abdomen, arm and shoulder blades from her mind.

Her hands clasped around the wrists of his arms and the pair struggled forcefully, breathing heavily, violently cursing each other and-in Jordan's case- praying silently. But Digger was much stronger than Jordan, even when she was in perfect health-which she was most definitely not now.

Digger flipped Jordan onto her back, straddling her hips with his slim body. He forced her wrists together, holding them with one hand while he used the other to pick the pipe back up. Jordan screamed violently and began fighting back viciously, even going so far as lifting her head and sinking her teeth into his arm.

Angrily, Digger swung the pipe at her, smashing it into her left cheek, but not hard enough to break it. Jordan grunted in pain, but before she could have any further reaction, Digger swung the pipe again, hitting her in the temple.

Jordan's vision became blurry and her thoughts went fuzzy, her resistance weak. Digger viscously hauled her up by her hair before shoving her maliciously forward. With a twisted smile, he opened the basement door and shoved her down the stairs.

Jordan crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, Digger slamming the door with a bang. Jordan managed one, breathy, word before her vision went black;

"Woody."  
**XoXoXoXo**

"So a guy in _this_ building has been asking about Jordan?" Woody asked with obvious distaste as the three men surveyed the dilapidated apartment building.

It was made of what had once been red brick, but that was faded to a dull pink with age, sun and lack of proper care. Graffiti covered more than 90 of the surface and the building reeked so strongly of garbage and fecal matter you could smell it from across the street.

Before Cal could answer, a tall black man in a black parka and a tiny white man in a red parka walked forward from the apartment building entrance. The black man also wore a black bandanna and the white man a backwards baseball cap.

"Yo Cal-_lie_!" the white man grinned, holding out his hand and clasping it with Cal's outstretched one as he pulled the bigger man into a hug, "How ya been man?"

"Eh, can't complain Alex," Cal replied with an answering grin, repeating the hug process with the black man, asking, "What's up Julius?"

"What's up Cal-_vin_!" Julius returned with a smile.

Cal smirked at the two before sobering abruptly, asking, "This the place?"

"Yea." Alex nodded, "Older man. He came 'round the Market a couple weeks ago, wanting to know if anyone had heard about a Jordan Cavanaugh. He kept coming 'round every few days, then last week he just stopped.

"How do you know where he lives?" Drew asked suspiciously, eyeing the two men uncertainly.

"Don't question Cal's informants-they just know everything." Woody murmured, absently pulling his gun from his holster, "What apartment?"

"109. First floor." Alex answered promptly, eyeing Woody's gun.

"Thanks." Woody nodded absentmindedly, walking quickly into the building, not even pausing as he called over his shoulder, "Are you coming?"

Drew and Cal ran quickly after Woody, Drew drawing his own gun with his good hand. The trio moved swiftly through the hallway, not even bothering to knock on the door when they reached it. Instead, Cal kicked the door in, backing away and letting the two gun-carry law enforcement officers proceed him.

"FBI!" Drew hollered, "Show yourself!"

Woody didn't bother to identify himself, instead swinging into the living room with his gun up, Drew 5 seconds behind him. They were met with the sight of an elder man with his own gun pointed at them. A very familiar elder man.

"Max?"  
**XoXoXoXo**

A/N Did you like? Let me know!

Red


	6. Chapter 6

**Bring Me Home**

**Chapter 6**

"Max? What the _hell _are you doing here?" Woody demanded, voice gruff with frustration as he reholstered his gun running a helpless hand through his hair.

"What the hell am _I_ doing here? What the hell are _you_ doing here?" Max demanded, dropping his own gun, "How the hell did you find me?"

"That would be my fault," Cal said, eyeing the older man dubiously, "Cal Hoyt-I've got buddies in the Market who'll talk about anything for an old friend."

"What do you guys want?" Max asked suspiciously.

Woody sighed, explaining, "We were looking around for the man who's been asking around about Jordan."

"Why?" Max frowned then groaned, "She ran again, didn't she? I _knew_ there was something wrong when no one could get anything on her."

"She was in protective custody Max," Woody cut in gently, "For a month. Her plane back here arrived at 6:30 this morning. A man from one of her old cases was after her. They'd thought they'd caught the guy but it must have been the wrong one because Jordan was kidnapped from the airport early this morning."

"What? Is she okay? Do you know where she is?" he stopped, snorting derisively as he said, "Of course you don't know! Why the hell else would you be here?"

Woody sighed softly, shaking his head as he said, "Let's hope they had better luck with that editor."

Woody's cell rang suddenly and he flipped it open urgently with a sharp, "Hoyt!"

"Woody? It's Nigel!" the Brit yelled over the noise of sirens.

"What have you got?" Woody demanded, instantly alert.

"Our editor is MIA. But Bug, Dr. Macy and I went through his office. We found an address on a notepad-it corresponds with one of the sites from the map." Nigel answered, "We've got people all over it, but you're closest!"

"Where?" Woody demanded instantly, listening to the quick directions before clicking the phone shut with a curt, "See you there."

Turning back to the three awaiting men, he said softly "We've got the bastard."

**XoXoXoXo**

Jordan whimpered tearfully as she woke, body wracked with pain. She blinked open teary, exhausted eyes, groaning as she took in the increasingly familiar sight of the bare basement.

Pushing down her panic and defeat, Jordan rolled herself carefully onto her back, assessing her damage silently. Her fingers flitted expertly across her body, searching for broken bones and heavy wounds. A grim smile touched her lips when she'd finished.

Her left forearm was broken, as well as at least two of her fingers and one rib. A large, vivid bruise had formed on her abdomen and Jordan worried about internal damage, Her right hip had been dislocated-she popped it painfully back in with a muffled scream of pain. She'd also cut herself when she'd fallen down the stairs-once across her cheek, once on her temple and one that stretched along the side of her left leg from her shin to her knee. But all were only minor scrapes that had already stopped bleeding and begun to scab over.

Carefully, she pulled herself into a sitting position, breathing heavily. Using the post from the stair-rail for support, Jordan pulled herself to her feet, eyes filled with tears of pain. Gasping in agony, she leaned heavily against the post.

Above her, she could hear the sound of footsteps and a muffled voice. It took her a few moments before she realized that there were _two _pairs of footsteps and _two_ voices.

Painfully, she pulled herself up the stairs, leaning heavily against the rail. Carefully, she climbed the stairs, making no noise. When she reached the top step, she lowered herself gently onto the stair, leaning gently against the door as she listened intently to the two voices.

"How the hell could you let her out?" a loud, booming male voice demanded.

"Relax Vega," Digger's voice drawled boredly, "It's not like she got away."

"No, instead she smashed your face in with a pipe!" Vega sneered back.

"_Shut up_ Vega, or I'll smash in _your_ face with a pipe!" Digger barked, voice laced with anger.

There was an angry growl from Vega's direction and the pair continued to yell at each other. The pair was so loud and distracted that they missed the sound of a car pulling up to the house. They didn't, however, miss the sound of gravel crunching under someone's feet.

"What the hell are we going to do?" Vega demanded in an attempt at a whisper(but the fact that Jordan could hear him attested to the fact that it was a failed attempt), "How the hell did they find us?"

"Shut up Vega!" Digger commanded, and Jordan could hear the safety being pulled off of a gun, "I don't know how they got here, but I know how they'll be leaving."

Jordan winced as she heard the pair walking away from the basement door. Desperately, she prayed whoever had found them would be okay-that she'd be okay.

Quietly, she whispered, "Please, somebody, save me."  
**XoXoXoXo**

"Cal, you're staying in the car." Woody commanded as Drew stopped the car, pulling his gun from his holster.

"What?" Cal demanded angrily, "Why?"

"Because you're a civilian!" Woody snapped, wheeling on his brother, "You don't have a gun. And because you're my brother and I'm not letting you get hurt!"

"Woody, I'm a big boy. And I owe Jordan-I almost got her killed with the Mob!" Cal protested adamantly.

"This man has killed over twenty women, Cal, he's dangerous. AND you. Don't. Have. A. Gun!"

"There's a cop, an FBI agent and an ex-cop in this car- you can't tell me honestly that none of you have a back-up." Cal pointed out with a slight sneer for his brother.

"Here." Drew said simply, pulling his back-up piece from the compartment and handing it over to the bigger man. He met Woody's angry glare with a soft, "Jordan needs us all to _really_ get the guy this time."

Woody's anger wilted immediately, and Max interrupted, growling, "Let's go. My baby girl is not spending another _minute_ in that place!"

"Amen to the," Woody said simply as the four pulled their doors open and stepped out.

There were two other cars in the lot, a cherry red Jeep Cherokee and a sleek, expensive silver convertible. The convertible's plates matched the ones Nigel had given him for the editor-a Luis Vega.

The four walked cautiously up the porch of the only standing house, their guns drawn. The inside was suspiciously quiet.

Woody moved forward to kick in the door, but Cal waved him away. Cal indicated his bigger frame with a wave of his hand, and, before Woody could protest, Cal had smashed the door in with his shoulder.

As soon as Cal placed one foot into the doorway of the rundown house, a pipe was brought smashing down on his temple. The big man crumpled to the ground.

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall!" snickered a deep male voice from the shadows of the house.

"Cal!" Woody cried, rushing forward, intent on reaching his fallen brother, but Drew grabbed hold of the Detective with his good arm. Woody turned on the agent, snarling, "Let go of me, Haley!"

"That's Digger, Hoyt," Drew said quietly, nodding his head towards the direction of the voice, 'We have to be careful."

A snarl curled Woody's lips and he violently pulled his arm from Drew's and strode forward. He didn't however, walk blindly in. Instead, he stuck the hand holding the gun around the door and fired twice, grinning in satisfaction as the pain filled holler that greeted him. Seconds later, he, however, was the one who yelled as the pipe slammed down on his retracting arm, making him drop the gun.

Woody gritted his teeth against the pain as he flattened his back against the wall, gingerly touching his purpling wrist. He had more cause to be upset seconds later, however, when a man appeared suddenly in the doorway, shooting Drew in the thigh and Max in the lower abdomen. But, before Max fell, he hit the trigger of his own gun, the bullet impacting in the man's chest, as did the round Woody fired with his back-up moments later.

"Oh, tut, tut, tut, Mr. Police-Man," Digger called, "You killed my partner! Well, you know what they say Officer-an eye for an eye." He gave a sadistic laugh, "After I kill you, maybe I'll go have some fun with _Jordan._"

"You even _try_ to touch her you sadistic bastard and I'll kill you in the most painful way possible." Woody growled, completely forgetting the pain in his hand at the thought of anyone hurting _his_ Jordan.

"ooh, touchy, touchy: Digger said with a maniacal giggle, "But, you know, Mr. Police-Officer, I already _did_ touch Jordan,-so does that mean that you're going to kill me now, or when I touch her again?"

Woody saw red. Crouching down, he swept up Max's gun and walked into the house, hitting the lone man square between the eyes before he could even react.

Woody stalked forward, guns still aimed and kicked Digger's lifeless body for good measure. From outside came the sudden, shrill sounds of police and ambulance sirens. Knowing his brother, Max and Drew were now in good hands, he moved quickly deeper into the house, searching for his Jordan.  
**XoXoXoXo**

Jordan had quickly-or, at least, as quickly as her battered body had let her- moved back down the stairs as the gunfire started, a terrible panic having taken over her. Hating herself for letting Digger's rape of her and his earlier beatings make her so jittery, she carefully slipped under the stairs, settling into the pile of rags and gripping a pipe in her hands: she might hate herself for her fear, but she wasn't prepared to overcome it.

She couldn't help but wince at the muffled, upraised voices or the gunshots. As silence fell, she gripped the pipe tighter, rising hesitantly to her feet. She let out a soft, scared cry as she heard the last gun shot, shrinking back into the shadows with fright, suddenly overcome with fear.

She sank back against the wall, both legs bent slightly up to her chest, She pressed her palms to her ears, whimpering as she rocked slightly, locking out all noise. Because of this, she missed Woody's frantic voice calling her name, as well as the voices of others.

The doorknob of the basement was jiggled fiercely and Woody yelled, "Jordan! Jordan, are you in there? Can you here me? Baby, please, answer me!"

Jordan's whimpering grew louder, trying to block out all the loud, scary noises. Suddenly, she was little again, in her dark room with the scary shadows. But she couldn't go wake mommy and daddy-mommy needed her rest and daddy needed her to be a big girl.

So she rocked and whimpered in the dark all alone.  
**XoXoXoXo**

Woody heard the loud whimpering and knew something was wrong. It wasn't an animal whimper, but it couldn't be Jordan either. Jordan didn't whimper-Jordan didn't even _cry_! But…who else could it be…?

Panic rose in his chest and, desperately, Woody crashed his body into the door. The white wood splintered under his weight and Woody kicked away the extra wood before squeezing himself through. He stood on the top stair, one hand on the rail as he impatiently waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark.

When they finally did, he swept the area quickly with his eyes. When they came up empty, he growled in frustration, thinking he must have been imagining things and turning to go before he was stopped by a by a scared, pained whimper.

Eyes dancing with realization, he ran quickly, but lightly, down the stairs. He crouched next to the bottom of the stairs, staring at his Jordan, gulping in pain and anger as he took her in.

She was pressed tightly to the wall, hands clasped to her ears as she whimpered in pain and fear. Her face was covered in tear streaks and dirt, her eyes screwed shut and face filled with pain. Her body was covered in scrapes and bruises-visible through the ripped tatters that had been a flowery white skirt and a muscle shirt.

"Jordan." He called out gently, "Jordan, baby, it's me."

But Jordan just shook her head, whimpering, "No! No, no, no, no! I want mommy! I want daddy!"

Woody leaned in further, letting his hand brush her cheek softly as he murmured, "Jo, sweetheart, it's okay now. I'm here, baby, he can't hurt you anymore. Jo, open your eyes, it's me. It's Woody."

Jordan's rocking slowed and her eyes opened as she stared at him in disbelief, her hands lowering slowly as she whispered incredulously, "Woody?"

"Yea, Jo," woody said softly, eyes brimming with tears, "I'm here. You're safe, sweetheart, I've got you now."

Jordan stared at him, eyes big with fear and uncertainty before she whimpered, "I'm scared, Woody."

"Oh, Jo," Woody whispered, carefully crawling into the small crawlspace and gently taking the woman into his arms. Gently, he kissed the top of her head before dipping his head to whisper into her ear, "I'm so sorry I sent you away, Jordan. I didn't mean it-really, I didn't. I love you, Jordan Cavanaugh, I really do."

Jordan pulled back slightly to stare at his face, one hand fisting his shirt, the other coming up to rest gently on Woody's face as she whispered, "Oh, Woody, I love you too!"

"Of course you do," he teased gently, dropping a light kiss on her nose, "Who doesn't love me?"

Jordan giggled, before arching her eyebrow at him and demanding in only the way Jordan can, "Aren't you going to _finally_ kiss me properly, Hoyt?"

"Damn straight Cavanaugh," he grinned, gently bringing her lips to his.

This kiss was even better than the one in LA. It was sweet, gentle and loving and yet hard and passionate at the same time. It was, in simplicity, the meeting of souls, a melding of two into one.

When they pulled back, they stayed in each others' arms until the yelling of the police, paramedics and Morgue employees caused them to stir.

Jordan smiled gently up at the man she loved, saying simply, "Bring me home, Woody. Bring me home."

**The End**

**XoXoXoXo**

**A/N Oh my, I think I'm gunna cry! I can't believe it's over-I loved writing for you guys:'( Waah! Lolz, well, ya never know, maybe I'll write a new one soon (after all, how could ANY true CJ fan live with the pairings they've got on the show now? I mean COME ON, EVERYONE knows Woody and Jordan belong together, it's DESTINY people! GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEADS! Okay, now that that's off my chest, back to the subject at hand, lolz)**

**Anyway, thanks bunches and bunches to:**

**Kakomaan **

**Eternalgorithm**

**Daynaaa.**

**Stonecoldfox: thanks, I love the 'tude too!**

**L'ilmissnitpick: lol, we do only have Timmy's in Canada, but, being Canadian, I strongly believe in the fact that TIMMY'S KICKS STARBUCKS ASS! Lolz**

**Jinubean: lol thanks, the action-battle things are actually pretty hard to right! Glad you like it!**

**Orlando-crazy**

**Bec**

**And any and every one else who reviewed me and was not recognized for it-I love you guys! You all rock my boat!**

'**My Luv,**

**Red**


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